


In Wolf's Clothing

by collisionsphere



Category: Wynonna Earp (TV)
Genre: A different kind of curse, Alternate Universe - Medieval, F/F, F/M, Historical Inaccuracy, Sort Of, Werewolf Nicole Haught, not the four legged wolf kind
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-10-08
Updated: 2021-02-03
Packaged: 2021-03-07 22:06:44
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 11,532
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26904832
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/collisionsphere/pseuds/collisionsphere
Summary: It was said there was a monster that lived in the forest, a beast, its fur matted with the blood of its helpless victims, unnatural eyes trained to kill on sight. A sign of the world stopping with bated breath was a sign that it was near, its own unnatural existence causing a disturbance in the natural order of the world. Of course, that was what the drunk townspeople, the overly superstitious, and the texts from wild, imaginative lore said.Waverly didn’t believe any of it.She didn’t, until she walked deeper in the woods than she had ever done before, and everything she had ever heard stared right back at her.
Relationships: Waverly Earp/Nicole Haught, Wynonna Earp/Doc Holliday
Comments: 32
Kudos: 99





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I should have known eventually I would have thought up a werewolf AU for this show as well. Especially since I'm such a sucker for werewolf! Nicole. I've been sitting on this idea and posting it because I wanted it to be good, and well written for what I had planned for it, but I might never feel like it's good enough to post so I decided to post now anyway.
> 
> Also, Nicole isn't so much a "wolf" werewolf, think more of the bipedal wolves. She's kind of more of a "beast", and my first initial idea was to make this story a sort of cross between a beauty and the beast and werewolf fic, but the "beast" aspect is as far as beauty and the beast as this goes.
> 
> She's a werewolf, she just doesn't change back to human, and it's very much explained later. Anyway, I really hope you all like this and I hope it comes out as well written as I want it to be. Anyway who doesn't love a good werewolf Nicole fic? Enjoy everyone!

The sun shined down, its bright, unfiltered yellow or blinding and pounding down onto the green Earth underneath, and with it, bringing to life everything in the surrounding area.

Waverly heard the rustling of the leaves as she walked down the trail, arm out to feel each branch, leaf and flower brush against her fingers and palm. She hummed as she felt the sunshine down on her back, heating up her skin and forcing her to pull her brown hair into a loose ponytail.

She paused as she saw the trail she usually followed split into two, and looked at the unknown path she always passed. She glanced at the dirt path in front of her, looking at the familiar trees and bushes, encroaching on the path itself. She sighed and took a step forward, eyes still locked on the path she always passed up, its trail dipped downward, darkening naturally into its own cave of greenery.

She forced herself to look away, instead turning to look at the thin barrier of trees between the trail she had always took, the homes of the farmers in the distance, a constant reminder of how far she was able to go. How far she was _allowed_ to go. And it was certainly the only distance she ever went, never wanting to invoke the wrath of her sister or knights or any of the townspeople.

She halted her steps, gaze shifting between the basket in her hand, the town beyond the trees, and the trail behind her. After multiple repetitive head movements, she let out a huff and spun around, stomping back to the fork in the path.

_Screw that._

With easy resolve, she made her way down the trail, letting its slope pull her forward with quick speed. Her heart sped up slightly with excitement, feeling as though she was being pulled into another world. A world that was only a few steps away, a boundary line that Waverly never dared to step over. The ground quickly flattened, and she stumbled as she attempted to find her balance again. After nearly tripping over branches, she found her equilibrium and walked further into the forest, looking at every tree and bush.

The overhead trees seemed to grow taller, sunlight breaking into broken patterns. Waverly found it beautiful, and found herself skipping through the trees, an excitement coursing through her body, having never been through the darker, much clustered section of the woods. It was far enough that Waverly saw nothing but trees and sloped dirt, no trace of the town in sight.

She passed by a low bush of flowers and paused, backtracking slightly to examine further. It was a bright, beautiful flower, just enough in a patch of sunlight to allow it to seemingly glow against the greenery.

Waverly quickly pulled off her bag she had carried with her, a hand sewn gift from her Aunt Gus years ago, after it was clear Waverly had a distinct love for reading and writing, scribbling what she could on any parchment of paper she could find or afford. Now, its leather had cracked, and the stitches had been redone multiple times, but Waverly still brought it with her everywhere.

She pulled out a leather-bound journal, as well as her ink and feather pen. She hunkered down in front of the flowers and opened it, each page crinkling loudly until she found a blank page near the end.

Damn, she was going to have to beg Wynonna to save some of the kills for coin.

She quickly decided to worry about that another day. It wasn’t an unusual predicament she found herself in, she was just going to have to write particularly small.

She quickly wrote down her notes, flickering her gaze back and for the between the flower and the paper in front of her. She took in as many notes as possible, noting its color, the shape, the stems it sprouted from. The way it reached for the sun, trying to get away from the surrounding shade it was growing in.

It reminded Waverly of herself, constantly reaching to spread farther than the confines of her surroundings. Of reaching towards freedom and shine to grow, to get away from restrictions and demands of where she was and was not allowed to go. Waverly reached up and trailed a hand down one of its petals, its soft, silky texture bringing a smile to her face.

She had written a sizeable amount when the sound of a branch snapping ripped her gaze away from her notes. She looked towards a cluster of trees, eyes squinting as she tried to look between the thick trunks.

Seeing nothing but the deep forest beyond, she shrugged to herself fand continued back to her notes. She didn’t get very far when she heard another snap, this time on the other side of the woods. She gasped and snapped towards the sound, body now alert. Again, she looked in between the tree trunks, and again, saw nothing.

Heard nothing.

That gave her pause. She couldn’t hear the bugs buzzing around, nor did she hear the birds overhead. The normal sounds were gone, replaced with an eerie silence that chilled Waverly to the bone despite the heat, the lack of wind constricting against her lungs.

The silence started buzzing into her ears, her breathing quickening as her heart thumped against her chest. Another branch broke somewhere behind her, booming in the otherwise still woods, causing her to shoot up to a standing position. She felt herself back into the bushes, prickling her back as she looked around frantically.

Nothing. She saw absolutely nothing.

She quickly gathered her things with shaking hands, throwing it all in her bag before running back. She tripped up the hill she had come down from several times, scraping her knees on the dirt as she heard another snapping branch reach her ears.

She didn’t bother looking back, her gaze focused only on the trail in front of her. It took too long to reach the top of the slope, dirt coated her skirt and hands, and as soon as the ground became even again, she sprinted back to the village outskirts.

It wasn’t until the trees that had lined the farmlands, the barrier between the safety and peace of home-grown vegetation and live-stock and the dangerous forest, were far behind her that she jerked to a stop. Her legs and lungs burned, and she doubled over, basket crashing to the ground as she placed her hands on her knees, body wracking with each gasp to catch her breath. All she heard was her breathing and the blood rushing to her ears that she hadn’t realized someone came up to her until she felt a hand on her shoulder.

She spun around, too tired to let out a gasp, and she stumbled backwards. Strong hands caught her by the arms and she blinked up at the body in front of her, her focus finally shifting back to normal and the buzzing in her ears subsiding.

“Waverly? What’s wrong?” She looked up at the knight in front of her, one of the few the dingy, average village, unremarkable to anyone passing through, had for protection.

“Dolls,” Waverly breathed out. “It’s nothing.” The knight, Dolls, looked behind him, towards the trees she had ran out of.

“Nothing made you run out of there for your life?” He turned back to her, staring at her with such intensity that had her sink into the ground. He simply stared, waiting for an answer, and Waverly cursed at herself.

“Yes?” Dolls raised an eyebrow and leaned back, finally giving Waverly space, and let out a sigh that exuded disappointment and frustration. Waverly looked down and scrunched up her skirt. “I mean, I _thought_ I heard something.”

“Like what?” Dolls immediately asked.

“Like... branches snapping?” Waverly mumbled, and Dolls paused, seemingly thinking her words over.

“Someone could have been following you. Or it’s a threat to the village.” Dolls spoke firmly, already putting his hand on his sword’s hilt. “Don’t move.” He ordered, turning around and unsheathing his blade. Waverly opened her mouth to say something, but Dolls was already stalking down the field, sword out in front of him, and she simply let out a sigh. She looked down at the basket, berries sprawled about in the grass.

With shoulders slumped, she knelt down and began the painstaking process of plucking the berries from the grass, transferring them to the old wooden basket. She slowly picked them one by one, quickly realizing how many she had dropped. By the time she picked what she could find, the basket was only half its original amount. She leaned back, sitting in the grass and gazed out in front of her, the overgrown blades swaying in the wind, effectively hiding any berries from sight.

She thought back to the woods, to the eerie quiet that overtook the forest, with seemingly Waverly at its center. It was a quiet Waverly had never heard before, not that she went deep in the woods often, but she had heard stories from others, from her father, Willa, and Wynonna, even the travelers and hunters that visited the tavern.

From everyone who had the liberty to go beyond Purgatory lines regularly and with ease. Something she never had.

Waverly took a deep breath, one that rattled her bones, and looked around as she exhaled her nerves. She saw the farmers on the outside, tending to the vegetation that grew in the ample fields, the hot sun beating down their backs.

The sound of leather and metal clashing together caused her to look up, finding Dolls walking up to her. She grabbed the basket and shot up, too anxious to wait, deciding to meet him halfway.

“Well?” Waverly asked. Dolls simply stood tall and he looked up, staring above Waverly’s head, as if steeling himself. He let out a heavy exhale again, eyes boring into Waverly’s.

“There was nothing.”

 _Oh_. Waverly looked down, feeling ashamed of herself, of putting Dolls through the effort of leaving his post, everyone in the village knew how seriously the knight took his job, the _oath_ to protect.

And he left his route to ensure _she_ was safe. Over what was probably her over-active imagination. Over being a nuisance.

And she absolutely felt like one as Dolls looked at her in a similar way as others in her life, like she was a bother to the. The same familiar feeling washed over her, starting from when she was a child and she got too close to family discussions, one hardened look from her father and she slunk back into her darkened corner.

From Willa who snapped at her to go back inside the home, away from the hunts, a theme that continued even to Wynonna and eventually exuded in the same way throughout Purgatory.

 _Shut up and stay where you belong._ Words no longer spoken, but still hung in the air of everyone in the village.

“Don’t go back into the woods,” Dolls sharp words cut through the air, startling Waverly back to reality. “Take what you have home, your sister should be back soon.” Waverly almost scoffed at the last remark, Wynonna didn’t have to watch her, she wasn’t a child, something everyone seemed to be needing constant reminding of. Dolls moved to walk away but Waverly stopped him with her words.

“Please don’t tell Wynonna.” Dolls paused and turned just enough to look at her.

“Waverly…” He began with a sigh.

“Please, I’d never hear the end of it.” Waverly could already hear Wynonna’s repetitive scolding.

“Only if you don’t go near the forest again,” Waverly immediately opened her mouth, only to close it again. A retort wouldn’t do any good. “It’s for your own safety.” Dolls added and it wasn’t until Waverly gave him a slow, defeated nod that he turned back and continued on his patrol.

Waverly sighed as she turned and walked back to the heart of the village, a few of the farmers she had passed waved her, ones that she cheerily returned. It wasn’t long until she saw the number of building increase, popping up more and more until she was the heart of the village, buildings now clustered together, the bustling of the townspeople buying and selling goods, going through their day.

A small smile graced her lips as she passed by all the villagers, watching them all in their own little bubble, listening to the sounds and breathing in all the scents. She still had a bit of a trek until she reached the homestead, and she often enjoyed watching the world around her during her strolls.

She paused multiple times to look through the vendors, making small talk with many people, and buying a loaf of bread for Wynonna, who would mostly likely be hungry. She was almost home when she heard her name being called, causing her to pause and let out a sigh at the recognizable voice.

“Hey, Waverly!” She saw Champ Hardy run towards her, arm waving widely and a dopey grin on his boyish face. When he reached her she was able to see dirt all over his sweat covered body, and she mused he must have had come from herding cattle.

“Hey, Champ.” Waverly replied, taking a small step back from him.

“Out picking again?” He asked, looking at the berries, frowning at the amount. “Was there a berries shortage or something?” Champ laughed, then his eyes brightened, and pointed somewhere behind him. “If you need some more, I have some at my house.”

“No, Champ, it’s okay, thank you.” Waverly quickly said. Recently Champ had been more insistent than usual in his advances, frequently trying to invite Waverly to his home, often making excuses that involved simply stopping by. She had politely declined each time, and hoped that Champ had pure intentions each time, but the way she saw his eyes hungrily roam her body when he thought she wasn’t looking made her want to recoil in disgust. Champ’s shoulders slumped as she shoved his hands in his pockets.

“Can I… walk you home?” He asked nervously, and despite his crudeness, Waverly felt her heart warm up at his moment of gentleness, however fleeting it was. She smiled and nodded, giggling as Champ held out his arm, appearing like a perfect gentleman, one that Waverly frequently dreamed about as a child, and allowed herself to lean against his clammy and muscular arm.

* * *

Waverly had to admit, Champ was a nice distraction and her nerves had calmed down considerably by the time they reached the homestead. She simply listened as he droned on about his day, filled with hard, various work, helping with manual labor when it was available.

She tried to not roll her eyes too hard when Champ mentioned Stephanie Jones passing by, explaining how well she had looked in colorful words. Luckily, the homestead was in view and Waverly couldn’t help the muttering under her breath.

“Oh, thank goodness.” She breathed out.

“What?” Champ asked.

“Uh, nothing,” Waverly replied quickly. “Thank you, Champ.” Champ grinned and held up hand, giving her a sloppy kiss.

“If you ever need the company, let me know,” His eyes lowered slightly, looking down her body before snapping back up and glancing at the homestead. Waverly slipped her hand out of his grip, her body feeling slightly uncomfortable under Champ’s gaze. “You think your sister’s home?”

“She’s probably on her way back right now,” Waverly replied, knowing the raggedy carriage they owned was no where in sight. “I’ll have to be ready to cook. Goodbye, Champ, and thank you.” She gave him another wave and walked away before he could say anything else. She hadn’t checked behind her until she was indoors, glancing out her kitchen window to see him far away now, his back turned, and she sighed in relief that he hadn’t tried to follow her inside.

She collapsed onto the kitchen table, placing the berries onto the center of the table. After a few moments of silence, nothing but the creaks of the old building and the wind moving the curtain of the open window.

 _Well, no point in just sitting here_. Waverly stood up and quickly moved onto the few chores she had left around the home. The quicker she finished it, the quicker she could study her notes, or read one of the few books she had been able to save for.

Multiple chores done and chapters read, there was still no sign of Wynonna and Waverly began to worry. The sun was beginning to set, and she hoped it only meant Wynonna was going to come back with good news. She hoped because the alternative was much, much worse. She was ready to run back into town, into Nedley’s own home when the sound of a horse reached her ears and she ran out the front door, relief washing over her.

She watched as both Wynonna and Doc jumped out of the small carriage attached to their horse, Doc tipping his hat towards Waverly when he noticed the smaller brunette at the doorway.

Waverly watched as Doc joined Wynonna at the bed of the flat cart, in just as much disarray as everything else they owned. Once Wynonna rounded the corner, she noticed a rabbit in each hand and Doc followed, holding a squirrel of his own.

“Hey, baby girl,” Wynonna grumbled, finally looking up at Waverly. The younger Earp frowned as she followed Wynonna and Doc to the barn, where they placed the carcasses on the far table against the wall, wood stained a dirty, dark, rusty color, the sight of which made Waverly want to gag. “How’d your day go?”

“Fine… what about you? You look… not that happy.” Wynonna scoffed as she lined up the three animals, examining each one before moving to the pile of tools that lay at the end of the table.

“Of course not, Waves, we got nothing,” Wynonna muttered, picking up a cleaver, moving on autopilot. “All that time and nothing.”

“Wynonna,” Doc appeared next to her, moving past her and picking up one of the rabbits. “This one received a clean cut, I do believe it is a viable sell.”

“Go ahead, Doc,” Wynonna waved him off, and Doc eagerly plucked it off the table. “Better share that coin.”

“Why, of course, love.” He grinned and tipped his hat towards Waverly again. “Waverly.” Waverly nodded and watched as Doc walked out of the barn. Wynonna sighed and looked at Waverly with an apologetic look, cleaver still in hand.

“I’m sorry, Waverly, we went to the usual routes and it was quieter than usual, it was weird.”

“Quiet?” Waverly perked up a that, her own experience coming to her mind.

“Yeah, we couldn’t find the big kills, we got this and headed back before it got too late. We stayed as long as we could, but,” She shrugged. “It’ll do for tonight, I guess.” Waverly nodded and wanted to say more, say that Wynonna had done her best, she always did for Waverly, but Wynonna stood still, cleaver in the air, waiting for Waverly to leave. Waverly took the silent cue, and began her way out of the barn, flinching slightly at the sound of the blade coming down onto the table once she was at the door, hearing bones crunching.

She prepared the stove, waiting for her sister to come in with the fresh kill, knowing her sister was ready to simply drop the food off to Waverly and freshen up. By the time dinner was prepared and Waverly was setting the table, the aroma of the cooked food filling the kitchen, she saw Doc ride up on his horse.

“Good afternoon, Waverly.” He greeted as he walked through the door, not needing permission any longer. He sat at the table, placing his hat down as Waverly placed a plate in front of him. “This looks delicious, as always.”

“Doc, you’re just being sweet,” Waverly chuckled, the sound of Wynonna’s heavy boots coming closer. The older brunette walked through the doorway in fresh clothes, breathing in Waverly’s cooking as she wrapped her arms around Doc’s neck.

“Smells good, Waves,” Wynonna then turned to Doc. “Got enough to hit the tavern?” At Doc’s nod she grinned and bounded to her chair with newfound energy. Waverly looked down at the plates in front of her, meat, lettuce, and berries placed perfectly in its spot.

“So, I was thinking,” Waverly began, placing both plates on the table before taking a seat herself. She used her fork to push the food around the plate, not daring to meet Wynonna’s eyes. “If I joined you guys, you could bring home more food and-”

“Absolutely not.” Wynonna snapped, shoving a mouthful of food into her mouth.

“I could help!” Waverly snapped back, not ready to end the conversation yet. “I _know_ how to use a bow and arrow, and you could bring more kills home, and you could cover more land, and-”

“W-wait, hold up,” Wynonna held up a hand, confusion on her face. “ _How_ do you know how to use a _bow_?” Her icy blue eyes bore into Waverly’s hazel ones and the younger woman squirmed in her seat.

“Well, I never _shot_ one, but I watched Champ use one, I’m sure it’s not that hard…” Wynonna scoffed.

“Fucking Champ, but the answer’s still no, you could get hurt.” Wynonna replied, voice tight, angrily cutting into her meat. Waverly paused, frowning into her food, nothing but the sound of silverware clinking filling the room. She raised her eyes, looking at Wynonna.

“I want to help.” She watched as Wynonna sighed, lowering her hands onto the table and staring in front of her, burning a hole into the wall if she could.

“I know you do,” Wynonna said, pinching the bridge of her nose, the frustration hadn’t quite left her voice. She let out a heavy sigh and placed her fork down, reaching out to take Waverly’s hand in her own. “And you _do_ help, here, at the homestead, where its _safe_.”

Safe. All Waverly heard was how safe it was for her to stay home, how she needed to be kept safe. _Her_ safety was always a concern, never Wynonna’s.

She was sure if it was possible, she would be locked up in a tower like the fairytales she read, if it meant she was safe.

She was beginning to hate that word.

“Can we talk about this another time? Please?” Wynonna’s voice was sharp despite the question, a thinly veiled command that Waverly heard loud and clear. Waverly sighed and nodded, knowing that meant the conversation was over before it began. Wynonna gave her a smile and her hand a pat before finishing her meal, talking with Doc, who had been silent the entire time. By the time they were both done, Waverly had only made her way through half the plate.

“We’re going out to drink, don’t wait up baby girl.” Waverly simply nodded, mood still low, it always was after every argument involving Waverly joining her sister in the woods. Wynonna kissed her forehead, grabbing one of the lanterns, closing the door behind her with a slam that screamed Wynonna’s true mood.

Waverly rose from the table, not bothering to put the dishes away as she trudged up the stairs to her bedroom, dropping onto her bed with a groan. She didn’t know why she bothered with the same argument that ended in nearly the same way, Waverly’s words never being fully heard, and ending with the same variation of the same line.

_It’s for your own safety._

_It’s too dangerous._

She was growing sick of it.

She got out of her bed and changed into her nightgown, relaxing into the silk fabric. She eyed her leather bag and pulled out the notebook she had been writing in earlier, bringing it over to her desk. She flipped to the notes of the flower, looking at the sentence that was cut off abruptly and eagerly attempted to finish her notes from memory.

She looked out her window, looking at the natural darkness that enveloped the surrounding area, suddenly emphasizing how she all alone in the empty home. Quickly turning the page, she wrote down her experience, the sudden quiet that sent goosebumps up and down her arms despite the heat. She made a note on the quiet Wynonna had mentioned, her mind already connecting possible dots and formulating its own theories. Perhaps a wild animal, maybe even one not native to the land, or possibly something otherworldly.

That thought made her pause, and she eyed the dark outside again. Otherworldly? She scoffed at the idea, but the unease it brought didn’t go away, and she quickly closed her curtains and blew out her candle, diving straight to bed.

* * *

When she woke up the next morning, she walked downstairs to see Wynonna at the kitchen table earlier than usual, her tools and bow and arrows all over its surface. Wynonna looked up from sharpening her blade and smiled.

“Did I wake you?” Wynonna asked as she placed the knife in its spot inside her boot.

“No, want breakfast?” At Wynonna’s nod, she began gathering her ingredients, hearing Wynonna’s ruckus behind her. “Where’s Doc?”

“He’s coming.” Was Wynonna’s answer, and Waverly wondered not for the first time why Wynonna hadn’t invited the man to live with them, as he practically did, and her sister’s relationship with him was not a secret to Waverly. “We’re running low on coins, I need to bring back more than last night, that’s for fucking sure.” She grumbled, grabbing the cup of most likely alcohol, and taking a swig of it.

Waverly turned to look at her, at her slumped shoulders, rubbing her eyes, bags noticeable even from the distance. She wondered when she had come back from the tavern, it must have been far past when she had finally fallen asleep. She could only hope Doc was fairing the morning after better.

“Be safe.” Waverly decided to go with simple, not wanting to aggravate or upset Wynonna in her tired state. Wynonna leaned back in her chair, giving her a playful grin.

“Of course, baby girl, always am.”

“Yeah, right,” Waverly rolled her eyes, but smiled nonetheless, hearing Wynonna chuckle as she turned back to the food. Soon, Waverly began singing to herself as she made breakfast, the only hint of Wynonna’s presence behind her of her leather jacket creaking with her movements and metal knives bumping against the wooden table, no doubt lightly chipping the wood.

Together, it sounded like harmony to Waverly’s ears. Sounds so distinctly Wynonna and Waverly, a melody that only existed in the mornings, in the confines of the kitchen of the homestead. A melody that grounded her, the beats of Wynonna’s weapons against the table that carried her throughout the rest of the day, continuously drumming in her chest with her own heart.

An ode that Wynonna was still here, that she wasn’t alone, even if their views differed on certain things. When she finally turned around, she saw a rare, soft smile on Wynonna’s face, wiping the same spot on her blade at a considerably slow pace.

“C’mon,” Waverly said softly, her voice continuing the same tone of melody. “Get your toys off the table.”

“Hey, these ‘toys’ are our means of survival, show some respect.” Wynonna lightly teased, but nonetheless did as told. By the time the table was cleared, and two healthy portions of food eaten, Wynonna left with a kiss to Waverly’s head and a reminder to be safe, as if Wynonna wasn’t the one walking headfirst into dangerous territory.

Waverly watched as Doc stood outside waiting, greeting Wynonna with a kiss before they both departed into the woods, feeling her nerves and fear from them settling in as it did every time. With a sigh she looked towards the other side of town and bit her lip, thinking back on the previous day. She slowly made her way to her bedroom, staring at the notebook still on her desk as she walked up to it. Running a hand along the worn leather, she glanced out her bedroom window and with a resolute nod, she gathered her things and rushed back out of the homestead.

* * *

Waverly poked her head out over the wooden railing, Dolls threat of telling Wynonna ringing in her ears. She carefully watched every patrol, having had noticed the serious man far back. Seeing as there was a considerable gap between the only two knights patrolling that area, she darted across the large empty field. She ducked behind the first large tree, chest heaving up and down more than it should, the excitement and nerves of sneaking around constricting her lungs more than she thought it would.

Was this how Wynonna always felt growing up, causing mayhem around the village? Waverly let out a shaky chuckle and shook her head, pushing off the tree and retracing her steps as best she could. She dug through her bag and pulled out one of Wynonna’s knives, reminding herself to put it back before her sister noticed it missing.

Carefully, and with difficulty, she dug the blade into the trees, carving out indents as best she could. After marking multiple trees, she found the trail that had split and moved her way to the downward path, stopping after the ground evened out slightly.

She looked around, finding the flowers she had the day before and stepped in front of it. She reached out to stroke the petals, closing her eyes, and listened to the forest surrounding her.

She heard the birds, the leaves rustling and skittering of the small woodland creatures. She heard life at its most content, and unlike the usual smile, she frowned with a huff and opened her eyes.

She quickly sat down and pulled out her leather journal, taking notes of her experience. She mused if someone had cared enough to look through it, they would see similar entries of her day to day life experiences, as well as notes of the objects and creatures surrounding her that fascinated her.

Her whole life, in journals. A life of someone trapped in one village, desperate to find the beauty in what was around her, unable to go far to look for it herself.

After some time of marking trees and walking, her arms began getting sore and she wiped sweat off her brow. She thought about turning back, of getting back to the homestead to sit and _wait_ , or continue picking berries, but she threw the thought away.

She was _tired_ of staying behind while Wynonna risked her life every day for her. She was tired of picking berries and everyone trying to tuck her away softly, as if she were some fragile thing.

She continued down the path, carving into tree after tree until her arms burned and ached. A glimmer caught her eye and she paused as she squinted towards a cluster of trees. There was enough of a break between the trunks to see water, sunlight reflecting off its surface, almost blinding Waverly and hiding the water itself. With wide eyes and a giddy smile, Waverly ran forward until she reached the trees, leaning against one as she took in the breathtaking sight.

“Ha! Just _wait_ until Wynonna hears about this,” She plunged her knife into the tree. “I’m a _great_ navigator, or I _can_ be. She’ll _have_ to let me join her.” Waverly carved deeply with each word, her anger and frustration marring the tree more than any she had done to before. She stepped back with a huff, her arm swinging limply at her side.

With a sigh she dragged her way to what she realized was a large lake, larger than the one behind the homestead, dropping to her knees and dipping a hand in the water. Its coolness was a sharp, almost painful contrast to her warm and sweaty skin. She set the knife down next to her and cupped the water, splashing it against her face.

She felt her body jerk at the ice-cold water and let out a content sigh at the refreshing air hitting her skin. She closed her eyes, tilting her head to the sky, feeling droplets trail down her neck, relief traveling down her body with it. She heard a branch snap behind her, and her eyes widened as she stilled, stinging eyes blinking as the water dripped into them.

The woods seemed far too quiet again and her stomach dropped. She stood, gripping the knife with her as she surveyed the surrounding trees. Again, nothing.

She was beginning to think it was all in her head, that she was working so hard to prove herself that she worked herself into some sort of frenzy.

Maybe everyone was right, maybe she truly wasn’t ready to go out into the woods, and never would be.

Another snapping noise caused her to whip around, knife now held out in front of her, ready to attack.

“I-I know you’re there!” Waverly shouted into the still air. “You better come out right now!” Waverly winced slightly as she tried her best to sound threatening, though the shakiness of her voice gave her away. There was no response, no one appeared out of the trees, yet the sound of another branch breaking was unmistakable.

She found herself jumping and spinning in different directions, trying to face the noise each time. Each time her body shook more, her breathing became more ragged and sweat built up, coating her body again.

“Enough!” Waverly snapped, her voice nearly a shriek now. “Show yourself!” Another snap, and she turned, expecting to see nothing now. Instead, she saw two small, glowing orbs. She tilted her head as she squinted her eyes at it, taking a tentative step forward.

Her body jerked backwards, nearly tripping over her own feet as the realization that those orbs were _eyes_ , vibrant, golden eyes watching her intently. A small whimper escaped her lips, images of being mauled by what seemed to be a large bear flashing through her mind. At least, that what it _seemed_ to be, as Waverly noted the eyes were in an unusually dark patch of forest, unable to clearly see anything but a dark mass of _something_.

The eyes grew bigger, and Waverly realized that the wild animal was coming closer. She stumbled backwards, raising the knife in front of her in defense. The beast reached through the trees and Waverly watched in horror as a hand came out of the shadows of the trees, into the sunlight. Its large, thick, furry fingers _wrapped_ around a tree truck, gripping it with an intensity that seemed to cause its claws to dig in the bark.

It was clear it was no bear.

It was… something.

It pulled itself forward, and Waverly’s voice caught in her throat as its enormous body twisted sideways to squeeze through the space between the trees. Once it fully stepped through the barrier of trees, it easily covered half of the trunks of two thick trees, each spaced far apart enough for a _human_ to walk through easily. It stood on two legs, hunched over slightly, broad shoulders rising up and down with each heavy breath. Its arms, thick with visible muscles hung at its side, fingers twitching and its claws for nails clicking every so often.

Its snarl brought Waverly’s eyes to its own, noting its long, knotted red fur shining against the sun. Its snout was long and its ears, long and pointy like a wolf, twitched backward. It snared its teeth at her, showing off its sharp canines. It licked its lips and lunged forward, and Waverly finally let out a scream as she dropped the knife and ran.

She ran into the trees, not caring what direction. Her legs and lungs burned, and she looked behind her for a split second, only to see the… _thing_ chasing her on all fours, its claws digging into the dirt and surrounding trees.

She whipped her head back around and pumped her legs harder, ducking between trees to lose it, fear, and adrenaline coursing through her body. She gasped with each breath, the fear too strong to even notice the tears running down her face, blurring her vision.

She ducked around another tree and felt her foot hit something sturdy, propelling herself forward. She skidded into the ground, rolling down a harsh slope that was nearly a drop off cliff. She squeezed her eyes shut as she felt her body spinning, slamming against large rocks and scrapping skin. She felt her body soar in the air slightly before rolling on the ground and eventually coming to a stop.

She groaned as she laid on her back, body aching and eyelids heavy. She felt something wet drip against her cheek and she opened her eyes to see a snout in front of her face. Too tired too move, she trailed her eyes upward, to the golden irises staring hungrily down at her.

As she closed her eyes, exhaustion taking over and knowing full well she was about to be eaten by some mystery creature. All she could think was how those golden eyes were so vibrant and being so close, she was able to see specks of a warm, honey brown, a beautiful contrast between the unnatural hue of its eyes.

As unconsciousness took over, she felt its wet nose rub against her neck, coating its drool on her, and she thought she was about to get eaten by a creature with the most beautiful eyes she had ever seen.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It was said there was a monster that lived in the forest, a beast, its fur matted with the blood of its helpless victims, unnatural eyes trained to kill on sight. A sign of the world stopping with bated breath was a sign that it was near, its own unnatural existence causing a disturbance in the natural order of the world. Of course, that was what the drunk townspeople, the overly superstitious, and the texts from wild, imaginative lore said.
> 
> Waverly didn’t believe any of it.
> 
> She didn’t, until she walked deeper in the woods than she had ever done before, and everything she had ever heard stared right back at her.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey all, sorry for the long wait, on top of being busy I've been feeling a little unmotivated to write, but the kick's back and I definitely don't want this to become an unfinished work.
> 
> Anyway, thank you all for the nice comments and here's the next chapter, I hope you all enjoy it!

She felt her body sway back and forth, stirring her out of her sleep yet making her wish she could go back to sleep. She felt a warmth all round her, like she was cocooned in a warm, fuzzy blanket, head resting on an equally fuzzy pillow. The warmth was soothing, and she wanted nothing more than to burrow further, pull whatever blankets she was covered in up and go back to sleep.

Slowly, with a groan, she opened her eyes, her eyes taking a moment to adjust to the dark. She blinked, slowly realizing she saw no clear shapes, no light, and certainly not the ceiling of her bedroom. Confused, she attempted to adjust herself, feeling soft, long fur tickled her nose as she did so. Despite how heavy her head and eyes felt, she pulled back slightly, realizing it was no pillow she had laid her head on.

Looking down, she saw thick, muscular arms holding her. No, carrying her, as the realization of her legs dangling slightly in the air hit her. She gasped, reaching out to grip something, anything, but only grabbed a fistful of fur from a broad chest.

She whipped her head towards her hand, at the long fur sticking out of her fist. She slowly moved her thumb, stroking the few strands of fur. Uncurling her hand, she stroked the fur in front of her, threading her fingers through its chest. They caught in a few knots, despite that, the fur was like silk. She could only stare amazed, amazed at how _soft_ everything was, how underneath the fur she clearly felt a sturdy chest.

Arms. Chest. The beast.

With a start she realized she had stopped swaying. She slowly tilted her head up, her heart speeding up at the anticipation of seeing the face of her… savior? No, the arms holding her up could never be a savior. The drooling, snarling monster that had hunted her down could only want to cause harm.

She paused when her eyes noted a thick neck, no doubt in her mind to support its large jaws. Her mind filled with flashes of the beast she had seen before, coming out of the woods with murderous intent. The fear began creeping its way back at its sharp teeth and curled lips, gripping her with a vice grip. With a shaky inhale and tears in her eyes, she craned her head up the last few inches and golden eyes stared back at her.

Golden eyes glowing in the dark, boring into hers.

She let out a whimper as she flailed about in its arms, arms moving back to pull herself away. She attempted to grip its arms, her hands easily slipping each time. The vague awareness of how thick the arms were, her hand easily resting entirely on the side of its bicep sending her into a deeper panic. The tears began falling now, and her vision began clouding at the edges as she began hyperventilating.

She was trapped, and the air constricted against her lungs, world shrinking and suffocating her.

No matter how much she kicked about in its arms, the beast’s hold never faltered. It continued to stand still, watching Waverly calmly, mouth closed in a firm line and chest continued rising and falling in its steady pace. Waverly simply continued to stare back as she continued to scramble, her hands gripping and releasing fur repeatedly.

Afraid that if she looked away it was going to dive for her neck, she continued to stare right until her vision darkened again and her head felt light. Finally, her arms gave out with its heavy weight as her eyes slid shut, again, the beast had been the last sight she had seen before nothing at all.

The next thing Waverly knew, she felt the familiar thick and itchy blanket draped over her body, its edges tickling her underneath her chin. Her eyelids felt heavy, her mind slowly catching up to her body. She finally pried her eyelids open, the sight of her bedroom ceiling greeted her. She saw the dust in between the familiar wooden panels, building through the years with her as she had laid in bed countless of times staring at them, the sound of Ward teaching his other daughters to hunt travelling back to her.

She blinked a few times, mind still thinking about the cold, dark night she was in moments ago. Suddenly, a face appeared in front of her, causing her to startle in bed, her body jerking in its attempt to flatten itself against the mattress. For a moment she only saw the bright, golden brown eyes behind a monstrous snout, gazing intently at her. She blinked again and it was gone, instead the face of her best friend looked down at her, brow creased, and mouth turned downward.

“Chrissy?” Waverly croaked.

“Waves! You’re awake,” Chrissy instantly grabbed a cup that had laid abandoned on the end table. Waverly slowly sat up, with the help of Chrissy, and took a small sip. It felt soothing on her dry and scratchy throat and she drained the cup completely before handing it back to Chrissy. Chrissy immediately set it down and began rubbing her back. “You had us worried, you know.”

“What happened?” Waverly asked, and Chrissy sighed, looking down at the bed sheets.

“That’s what we want to know, what were you doing in front of the forest by yourself?” Chrissy looked at her, no anger on her face. Instead, she was just genuine worry, pausing to let Waverly think over her words, to _breathe_ , and despite the relief and security it brought the brunette, she still looked away.

She looked out the window in front of her desk, open with the curtains flowing in the breeze, bringing the warm air to her. She closed her eyes, enjoying the feeling of openness and calmness circulate in the room before Wynonna would inevitably barge in and hammer down the same words she always did.

“Chrissy,” Waverly sighed and smiled at the blond, who gave her a small, kind smile back. She felt a pang of guilt as she shook her head, not ready to explain her actions. She was still reeling from the memories of the previous night, and just the thought of uttering the words out loud, causing them to settle into the physical world, made her throat dry again. “How did you find me?” She finally asked.

“Dolls did. Found you out at the edge of town and carried you to Doc’s, and while he tended to your wounds Dolls got Wynonna. Doc patched you up and my dad made sure you got sent back home in a wagon, led by his own horse. You’ve been out since.” Waverly winced, imagining the uproar caused by the townspeople.

Doc didn’t necessarily live in the center of town, but certainly close enough to tend to any dire needs of the citizens. Having no healer in town, no one from an upstanding family or with a reputable skill would think to live in Purgatory, Doc Holliday was the closest the town had.

A man with more bottles of alcohol on his shelves than ingredients to cure an ailment or mend a broken bone, it was no wonder its citizens grew slightly delirious with sickness. As if that were not bad enough, it was known he was involved with Wynonna, an Earp, which did not help his reputation.

However, he never necessarily wanted to be the town’s miracle man, nor did they want him for them, and such began a begrudgingly mutual agreement. An agreement that he would be left in peace to drink and do whatever he wanted, and every Purgatorian would ask for his services until the last moment, until it was clear they could do nothing themselves.

And yet, Waverly merely had a fainting spell, and the town was awoken from its slumber for the parade that was Waverly Earp’s unconscious body. She groaned and hid her hands in her face as she thought about Nedley barking orders down the street, Dolls silent but staggering presence by his side. Coupled with Wynonna’s death glares, she was sure the whole town knew what had happened.

Or worse, they didn’t, and she was going to be greeted by another Earp rumor next time she strolled through town.

Heavy boots sounded throughout the hall outside Waverly’s door and it swung open moments later, revealing Wynonna holding extra blankets and pillows. Wynonna paused mid-step at the sight of Waverly sitting up, and she practically threw everything to the floor, barely giving Chrissy enough time to get out the way as she dashed forward.

“Baby girl,” Wynonna breathed out, arms wrapping around Waverly’s shoulders, crushing her in the process. “I’m so glad you’re okay.”

“I’m going to tell my dad you’re awake, I’ll come check on you later.” Chrissy said as she stood up, quietly making her way out of the room, and closing the door behind her. Waverly waved as best as she could, Wynonna’s grip on her still tight. After a few moments Wynonna finally pulled her away, holding her at arm’s length. Waverly winced slightly, Wynonna’s fingers digging into her shoulders so hard she was sure they were going to bruise.

“Damn it, Waverly, what were you thinking?” Wynonna spoke harshly, shaking Waverly’s slightly with each word. “Dolls found you and-” Wynonna closed her eyes and took a deep breath that seemed to do little to help. “I mean, fuck, Waverly, have you been going into the woods alone?”

“I mean, not far, just-”

“Far enough to get hurt!” Wynonna cut her off and Waverly looked down, gripping the bedsheets as she bit her lip.

“I wasn’t even that hurt.” Waverly replied calmly.

“Waverly, you were _passed out_ and freezing. What if Dolls hadn’t found you?” Wynonna asked, voice loud and booming and ringing in her ears. “This is why I don’t want you going out hunting, you could get hurt.”

“I would have even gone out if you’d let me join you just _once_ in a while.” Waverly snapped back, matching Wynonna’s icy glare with her own. Wynonna scoffed and flinched back, gaping at Waverly for a moment before grinding her teeth.

“Don’t put this on me, it’s _dangerous_ and you never _listen-_ ”

“Listen?” Waverly laughed. “Wynonna you never listen to me! You still treat me like a kid, I’m not, you don’t have to treat me like this fragile thing you have to keep safe.” Waverly threw her hands in the air with a huff, dropping them back onto the mattress with a soft thud.

“Except I do.” Wynonna replied and Waverly rolled her eyes.

“No, you don’t.” Waverly replied harshly.

“Yes. I do.” Wynonna growled, voice low and hands clenched at her sides now. Waverly let out a long and tired sigh, the argumentative back and forth was nothing new to them, not when it came to hunting. However, her head hurt, her body ached, and she was far too exhausted to go another round.

“Why are you being so stubborn about this? Nothing is going to happen to me.”

“You don’t know that!” Wynonna finally yelled, shooting off the edge of the bed she had been sitting on. “You _did_ get hurt. I can’t- I can’t lose you too.” Wynonna’s voice cracked, pain dripping through every word, eyes downcast. “You’re all I have left.” Wynonna blinked, feeling the sting behind her eyes, threatening to spill over.

Waverly felt the pang of guilt and sadness as she watched from her position on her bed. Despite Wynonna’s lowered gaze, she was still able to see the pain in her eyes and heartbreak all over her face. Wynonna shook her head as she closed her eyes and cleared her throat, reopening her eyes, now dry of an evidence of pain.

Waverly smiled softly and reached out, wrapping her hand around Wynonna’s wrist. Wynonna didn’t fight the pull, allowing herself to be brought back down to the bed and feeling Waverly’s head on her shoulder. Wynonna let out a sigh and brought a hand up to Waverly’s hair, running her fingers through it.

“When I got the news and ran to Doc’s, I saw Willa and daddy again- and I...” Wynonna paused to swallow a lump that had formed in her throat. “I was so scared that I was going to have to…” Wynonna’s voice broke again, and Waverly nodded, silently letting Wynonna speak. After a few moments of the older Earp attempting to steady her breathing, silence continued, and it was clear she wasn’t going to say anything else.

“Wynonna… I’m sorry,” Waverly said softly, hearing Wynonna’s hum of response, hands still threading through Waverly’s hair. “I know you worry about me, and I _promise_ to be more careful, I just want more room to _breathe_. And trust me a little more, please.”

Wynonna slowed her hand, pausing at a knot in Waverly’s hair, before dropping her hand and nodding. Waverly smiled and tried not to get too excited, knowing Wynonna wasn’t necessarily going to let her run head-first into the woods.

“I do trust you,” Wynonna said, looking at Waverly, who was giving her a doubtful look. “I do! You’re a smart kid,” Wynonna pursed her lips at the word “kid” but decided against saying anything. “And because of that,” Wynonna sighed, patting Waverly’s hand. “I’ll try to do just that, to give you more breathing room.” Wynonna spoke almost painfully, though Waverly could feel Wynonna’s smile as she lunged forward, wrapping her arms around her appreciatively.

Waverly pulled back and Wynonna told her to rest up and in no uncertain terms that she was allowed out of bed. Waverly rolled her eyes but agreed. Just before Wynonna left, she called her out one last time.

“I had my bag… where is it?” Wynonna halted, one hand on the door frame and the other on the doorknob. Waverly saw her shoulders drop and head hang low before she turned around, frown etched into her face.

“I’m sorry, baby girl, they’re gone. I know it’s not the same, but I’ll buy you a new one, I promise.” Waverly could only nod as her own shoulders dropped, and Wynonna slipped out of the room.

Now alone in the room, her mind went back to the previous night, to the forest her belongings were now lost to. Precious belongings she had cared for, for years, gone within moments to a… a what? Waverly furrowed her brows as the fuzzy memory of a creature swam in her brain.

The logical part of her brain screamed at her, demanding that what she saw was a hallucination, a product of exhaustion, or a consequence of eating spoiled berries. Or perhaps, her imagination had finally gotten a hold on her, putting fantastical images before her eyes in a desperate concoction to add adventure and excitement in her life, away from her dull life in a dusty village.

In which case, she wondered if it was a message of some sort. That perhaps, she truly needed to get out of the homestead and town more often, that the stillness of her life had finally driven her mad, yanking her closer to the supposed Earp curse than she ever thought.

Or, Wynonna had been right all along, and the world and forces beyond had come together in a devious plot to scare her away from the forest. The world may have been mocking her, _proving_ to her, that what she had been working so hard to convince her sister had been a lie. She wasn’t strong or brave enough like Wynonna, as skillful as Doc, or as composed as Dolls.

She was what she had always known, a weak, simple, country girl from a backwater village with nothing to contribute.

Waverly groaned and dropped onto her back, pulling the cover over her face, hiding from the sun, the _world_ , hoping sleep would pull her away for a few moments longer.

And she found that it did, as time quickened and she found herself prying her eyes open yet again. Sore, tired arms fought to put her into an upright position, exhaling in exhausted relief.

She looked to her end table; the half empty cup of water now full. She smiled, reaching over and taking a large gulp, before setting it back down and pausing to listen to the house.

Hearing none of the usual ruckus that followed Wynonna where she went, she forced herself to the edge of the bed. Her body felt heavy as it rose to a standing position, body sagging with its own weight.

With a deep breath she took slow steps out of the room, hand constantly trailing along every piece of furniture and eventual wall of the hallway. Nothing but the sound of the wood underneath her feet creaking filled the air, giving Waverly an idea of where Wynonna was.

She was halfway down the stairs when the door swung open and Wynonna walked through, too busy inspecting one of her knives and particularly more bloody than usual. Waverly’s heart lurched forward at the excess blood and she spoke out.

“Are you okay?” Wynonna jumped, fumbling with the knife in her hand. Waverly watched as it danced in her hands and sliced flesh on its way to the floor, bouncing and spreading some of Wynonna’s blood.

“Fucking-” Wynonna cursed, pressing her other hand onto it. She ignored the knife clattering to the floor as she looked up, followed by sprinting forward a millisecond later. “Waverly!” She hooked an arm around her and began gently turning her around. “You should be in bed! Why are you even up?”

Waverly huffed as she resisted and reached around Wynonna’s back, where her cut hand hid behind.

“I woke up, were you hunting?” She gently tugged Wynonna’s arm, but the elder Earp held firm.

“You’ve been sleeping a lot, so I figured going out won’t hurt,” Wynonna sighed and tried to move Waverly again. “Sorry, Waves, I should have had Chrissy over or something.” Another attempt to re-direct Waverly failed when the younger brunette dug her heels into the floor.

“It’s fine, besides, I don’t want to sleep, and you’re hurt,” Wynonna groaned and took a step backwards, down a step. Waverly sighed and raised a hand in the air. “At least let me help you dress your wound, it’s my fault for scaring you.” Wynonna paused and mulled it over in her head, her mouth moving as she muttered to herself.

“If I do, will you go back to bed?” Wynonna finally asked.

“No,” Waverly replied honestly, with a bluntness that made Wynonna crack a smile.

“Worth a shot.” Wynonna chuckled and helped Waverly down the rest of the steps and into the kitchen. Waverly smiled appreciatively when Wynonna set down a cup of water in front of her before grabbing their cleaning kit.

Waverly winced as Wynonna placed her hand in between them after finishing setting up, opening her palm to reveal a small gash. Waverly quickly went to work to clean the wound.

“Did you catch a lot at least?” Waverly asked as she dabbed the wound. Wynonna grinned.

“Lots, actually. Well, more than before,” Wynonna said proudly. “You’ll be able to get a new journal in no time.”

“Don’t be reckless because of a journal, now.” Waverly chuckled, grabbing bandages, and beginning to task of wrapping her hand.

“Me? Reckless? Never,” Once Waverly finished, she leaned back, and Wynonna raised the bandaged hand to inspect it with a raised eyebrow. “A little extreme for a cut, don’t you think?” Waverly rolled her eyes and Wynonna chuckled, leaning over to thank her with a kiss to her forehead before clearing the table.

“Well, I’m going to sit outside to read.” Waverly sprung up with more force than she anticipated, and her body stumbled. She reached out, gripping Wynonna’s shoulders to steady herself, ignoring the knowing look on her sister’s face.

“I’m fine,” Waverly rushed out before Wynonna had the possibility to even open her mouth. Wynonna let out a sigh and wordlessly helped Waverly out to the front porch, easing her into the rocking chair. “Can you get me one of my books? I never actually brought one out.” Wynonna rolled her eyes but obliged, disappearing into the house only to return moments later with one of Waverly’s older books, spine warped from repeated use.

“Yell if you need anything, alright, baby girl?” Waverly nodded and Wynonna left with a smile, walking to the shed. Waverly gave her retreating form one last smile before turning to her book, pulling the leather bookmark from its place and settling into the chair.

It felt like she only blinked when she opened her eyes, and she was no long in the chair. Her heavy covers tucked under her chin, she blinked at the darkened ceiling, the red tint from the settling sun casting harsh shadows in her room.

The sound of voices drifted upwards, Wynonna laughing at something Doc had said. She groaned as she sat back up, looking out the window towards the plain field that stretched out, the section of woods Wynonna typically ventured in peeking out.

Waverly gazed at the greenery, thinking back to the creature she saw and Wynonna’s words. She bit her lip and crept out of bed, making her way out the door and back down the stairs. She passed by the kitchen doorway, seeing both Wynonna and Doc at the kitchen, drinking and laughing.

They were too much in their own little drunken world to notice Waverly slip past and tiptoe to the back door. She eased it open and closed, pausing each time to see if Wynonna ever noticed.

There was no pause in the joyous atmosphere, and she grabbed one of the lanterns kept outside. Without pause, she scurried out to the empty field, hoping Wynonna never found the inclination to check up on her.

The walk felt incredibly long, head constantly whipping back and forth between the homestead and row of trees. Halfway across the field, she paused, gazing at the thick cluster of trunks, now darkened in the night.

The sight looked eerie now, a sense of residue fear and trepidation knowing at her as she stared at the familiar sight. The trees seemed to loom over more than she remembered, taunting her forward. She shook her head and took a hesitant step forward, clutching the lamp to her chest like a lifeline. She only managed a few more steps before halting, her breathing quickening to ragged and choppy, the fear building up in her throat, blocking her airways and pounding against her chest.

She staggered backward, body shaking and eyes stinging. She closed her eyes, trying to focus on the wind on her face. Her heart dropped at the thought of being afraid of what she loved, of the welcoming outdoors striking fear into her.

Of her need to discover more of the world around her to be squashed.

Perhaps now Wynonna would get her wish of Waverly staying home and out of any danger.

When she finally opened her eyes, she saw nothing but the woods in front of her, as it had always been, and she slumped her shoulders in disappointment. She began turning back when something caught her eye.

She paused, looked, and froze.

She saw two yellow orbs looking back at her, glowing and unblinking.

The image of the creature looking down at her, nose to nose with her, flooded her brain. She gasped and nearly dropped her only source of light.

The eyes blinked, its glow disappearing into the dark bushes. When they reappeared, Waverly was amazed at how fluorescent its hue was, glowing as bright as the stars in the sky.

Vibrant and beautiful and despite how hard Waverly’s fame shook, she wanted to reach out to it, examine it further. She wanted to look for the beautiful brown specks she saw hiding in the golden hue of its iris’s.

They stood rigidly still, Waverly’s body no longer shaking, a sense of fascination at the sight in front of her tugging at her. It pulled at her, the need to reach out to the unblinking yellow eyes growing with each second.

The eyes simply stared, silently and patiently, and Waverly only saw the dark patch of the trees, body obscured in darkness. The standoff continued, its eyes boring into her, and her own gaze unable to break away.

Waverly took a small, shaky, step forward. The field before her seemed to be filled with static, prickling over her body and keeping her nerves one second away from a complete meltdown. She took another step, fighting to control her breathing, memories of Ward teaching Willa and Wynonna the skills of calm breathing flashing through her mind.

 _‘Stay calm, stay focused. Eyes on the target, always._ He would quietly say as he guided their bows, perfecting their aim as Waverly stood at the side-lines. Out of the way, where Ward had always wanted her to be.

The eyes lowered, causing Waverly to halt. Her body leaned back, knowing what animals looked like before they pounced. She waited, but nothing came, the creature simply continued to stare.

She let out a long shaky breath and took another step forward. She pushed herself forward on weak legs, the closer she got the more her body shook. The back of her mind screamed at her, demanding she turn back around. She could practically hear Wynonna berating her for her recklessness. _She_ was berating herself for her recklessness.

She couldn’t stop, though. There was a beast in front of her, almost _waiting_ for her, and the unknown of it pulled her. She _needed_ to see, to _know_ that she wasn’t crazy. That she hadn’t hallucinated some sort of hell-creature.

That somehow, something that shouldn’t exist truly was right in front of her.

She was incredibly close now and her eyes had finally adjusted to the dark. The dark patch in between the trees had brightened slightly, the finer details peeking out slightly.

She could see the elongated snout, closed into a firm line. Waverly was thankful she couldn’t see the sharp canines, knowing it was a high possibility it would have sent her over the edge. Without the drool, the beast looked… calm. Its silent gaze lacking the aggression it held before, its eyes held a more somber shine. A gaze that reminded Waverly of when she studied and took notes of the wildlife before her, all intent and fascination.

That thought gave her pause.

Did it have a greater self-awareness? The way it gazed into her core, almost _through_ her made her want to indulge the ridiculous answer that popped in her head. Its head tilted, as though it had somehow read her thoughts, or perhaps the gears in her head turned so loudly that she had projected them out to the creature in front of her.

She took a small step forward, never breaking eye contact. Despite the ever-shrinking gap between them, every second, every stride was painstakingly long. Her heart rate picked up with anticipation, body buzzing with excitement.

She raised her arm, palm out, hoping it came off as non-threatening. She paused with uncertainty when its head lowered, a low rumble coming from deep within its chest.

Waverly knew enough to recognize a warning growl.

She paused again, never moving her hand, waiting for the beast to make the next move.

The air was thick with tension, she didn’t dare to blink or even swallow to try to ease the sudden dryness in her throat. She was sure the beast in front of her could _smell_ her now, her body coated in sweat despite the cool night air.

It leaned forward, and Waverly watched awe-struck as its head peeked past the trees.

It was closer to the lantern now, and Waverly could _see_ it now. See its enormous head, matted with dark, dirty fur. She knew it wasn’t at its full height, yet she still had to crane her head up slightly as it descended towards her palm.

Slowly, it crept forward, and Waverly let out a gasp as she felt a distinctly wet nose press against her palm. She heard an audible sniff, then felt the pressure of its heavy exhale. It pulled back, simply staring down at her, before backing back into the trees.

“No, wait, please!” The words flew out before she recognized what she was saying. Her only response was the sound of heavy footprints kicking into the ground and scurrying away.

It was quickly replaced with silence.

Silence filled with her own heavy breathing and ringing in her ear. Her mind was still swarming and racing with rapid thoughts, the last few minutes having felt like an hour.

Or, perhaps, an hour did pass, as Waverly vaguely noted the sun had dipped far below the ground now, nothing but the lantern in her hand lighting up her path. Keeping her safe from the dark night around her, and perhaps the beast that she knew existed.

The beast that could come back and kill her if it wanted to.

How long had they stared at each other?

Waverly couldn’t recall, the only thing she noticed was the beast in front of her. Of its mesmerizing eyes, and its thick fur as it barely showed itself past the tree line.

Why hadn’t it killed her? Why was it so calm?

It reminded Waverly of herself, someone simply curious. Though, she mused, if it was curious, if it searched for her, _inspected_ her, it must have been smarter than an average animal.

The thought brought a fire deep inside her and kick started her body, turning the gears that had cranked to a standstill, and she scurried back to the homestead. She dashed across the field still in a daze, barely remembering to pause at the back door to open it quietly.

She slinked through, closing it gently as she surveyed the room. There was no sight of Wynonna anywhere, and Waverly hoped it meant she had passed out. The last thing she needed was Wynonna out looking for her.

She crept past Wynonna’s room, sighing in relief when she saw her bundled under covers. She quickly continued her way back to her own bedroom, closing the door as gently as possible. She dashed to her closet, kneeling in front of a spot where old, filled up journals lay scattered. She aimlessly grabbed one and scurried back to her desk, nearly toppling over the jar of ink in the process.

She turned to the back of a page, slightly wincing at the messy scrawl her shaking hand produced. Nearly illegible with her haste, messily cramped between other writing.

She scrawled, and scrawled, and didn’t stop until the memory of what had happened that was burned into her brain was now relayed to a fine detail on paper. Her wrist ached and her head felt lightheaded until she dropped her quill and leaned back, the air she hadn’t realized she had been holding in forcing itself out.

She knew she wasn’t crazy, the beast in front of her had been _real._

And she was going to find it again, even if she had to defy Wynonna and sneak past the whole village if she had to.


End file.
